


Waist Not, Wont Not

by Jennicide (yenyen)



Series: Lamen Week 2020 [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Satisfaction, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, I wrote what i wrote, M/M, Nipple Play, Post-Kings Rising, Yes I'm a Slut for Puns, corset sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide
Summary: Wherein Damen and Laurent finish what they started in my Lamen Week 2020 ficlet “Sweet Ophelia.”
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Series: Lamen Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872490
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Waist Not, Wont Not

* * *

_  
“My, you’re amorous tonight,” Laurent murmured. He ground down experimentally and gasped at what he found. “Perhaps more so than usual.”_

_“If I am, then I have only the sight before me to thank for it,” Damen said, turning and walking them over to the bed that was waiting by the window._

_“Are you a pervert now, Damianos?”_

_Another kiss._

_“I think, maybe, we both are.”_

His confession was sealed with a press of lips. Stopping at the edge of the bed, Damen slowly, gently lowered Laurent down onto it. His arms were still wound around Damen’s neck, keeping them close.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “but if _I_ am, then it is only because of your undue influence.”

Through a smile, Damen hummed and dipped his head down to lay a trail of kisses along Laurent’s pale neck. It started out chaste, a feather light brush of lips ghosting over skin, but when Laurent threaded his fingers through Damen’s hair, the feeling shifted from loving to lustful. His purpose was clear in the pull of his hands, “ _Come up here”,_ _“Kiss me properly”_ , and _“Don’t tease me”_ he seemed to say without words.

Damen replied by bringing his own hands up from where they’d strayed, fastened to Laurent’s hips, as he transferred their combined weight to the bed. The underbust corset Laurent still wore was tempting, his displayed flesh a beacon calling to Damen like a siren’s song. It was easy to find his mark, and he smirked at the gasp that roughly thumbing both of those exposed, hardened nipples earned him. They still hadn’t softened from the attention he’d paid them earlier.

“Mm, Damianos,” Laurent sighed as he writhed under Damen’s ministrations. “Play all you like, nothing will change. I am no woman.”

Laurent’s remark earned him a huff of laughter from Damen. Of course he knew that; only a fool would ever mistake Laurent for a woman outside of clothing. His figure was very obviously masculine without the gaudy silks and laces to hide behind. He had developed too many muscles, his body was too taut, and yet, still, there were some areas that could be coaxed to sensitivity with a little invested bedplay.

Laurent’s chest was one such place. The first time Damen had toyed with those pretty pink buds, Laurent had choked on the sweetest of mewls. After hearing it once, Damen knew he would do anything to earn it again. And so he had. Laurent’s chest, his neck, his back, all of those and other more secret, more intimate places were where Damen’s lips and hands had found a familiar home over the years.

He said nothing in response to Laurent’s previous comment, instead allowing his mouth to pay tribute to those same tender buds his fingers had teased only moments before. Another loud gasp followed by a sigh was given aloud, and Damen received them with heightened enthusiasm. His tongue licked a path from one to the other, his teeth nipping at the delicate flesh hard enough to really _feel_ , but not strong enough to bruise. Each bite, each suck so delectable both for him and his partner, he continued to feast there until each rosebud was bright and swollen, achingly sore from all of his kisses.

It was only the incessant pull from Laurent’s fingers that made him turn his face up, chin scraping lightly against the delicate lace overlay of the corset and it’s thick boning.

“Damen,” Laurent whispered. His voice was high and airy like a man struggling to breathe; his elegant cheekbones were flushed a dangerous shade of red that was lighter than the imported wines of Lentos, but deeper still than the jeweled rubies that decorated the goblets from which they drank it.

Attention now focused where he desired, Laurent finally released Damen, his eyes speaking a thousand words not voiced between them. Damen didn’t need them; he knew what Laurent wanted.

Looking down, his face scratching against the corset’s stiff material, it was obvious what the problem was. The fabric at the front of Laurent’s feminine drawers was tented. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Normally Laurent took more time to warm up to Damen’s advances. Tonight was clearly not typical, for either of them in more ways than one, but that was all right. Damen slid his hand down, slowly and with purpose, until he felt the press of Laurent’s clothed cock settle into his palm. The heat of it was pleasing, a reminder that he was as desired by Laurent as Laurent was by him.

It was reflex, the twitch of Laurent’s hips as he bucked up faintly under Damen’s touch, but it promised so much more.

“Damianos,” he keened. Laurent’s eyes, normally a clear, crisp blue as that of a winter’s morning, were now dark and cloudy, hazy with a storm of growing hunger that only Damen could sate. “Do not tease me so,” he exhaled, both hands moving down to his sides to fist into the bedsheets.

Stopping the movement of his own hand to settle his lover, Damen chuckled a reply. “We have all night, sweetheart. Surely you’re not thinking I will leave you unsatisfied?”

“I’m unsatisfied that you are taking an age. I’m far too overdressed while you are disparagingly yet _un_ dressed.”

“Don’t worry, lover,” Damen replied, echoing back Laurent’s favorite pet name, “I will attend you.”

Another laugh, this time accompanied by a smile, was all the warning Damen gave before both of his hands were at the seam of Laurent’s corset overlaying his drawers. The ties at the side were horribly Veretian in their extravagance, and it took all of his willpower not to just tear them off of his husband in haste. Instead, he took his time untying and loosening them, slid the thick tips of his fingers in between the space of cloth and skin, and pulled with as much grace as he could muster until the fabric began the slow journey down the long length of Laurent’s pale thighs.

By removing the fabric, Damen had given Laurent’s cock room to breathe, and it sprang up tall and proud and unwilling to be ignored. Like everything else of Laurent’s features, this too was well-proportioned and lovely, so Damen didn’t deny himself the chance at a taste. Underthings now forgotten and discarded to the floor, he ducked down and brushed his lips against the head.

A sharp inhale and the sheets beneath them shifted as Laurent’s hands tightened their hold. His reaction gave Damen even more wicked ideas, and he didn’t think twice to lick a wet stripe up from the base of Laurent’s cock to the tip. A pearly white bead of ejaculate waited for him as nectar does to attract a bee. Damen lapped it up and smiled at the hiss it prompted from Laurent.

His lover always had the most enjoyable reactions. Dissatisfied with teasing, Damen dragged himself up to meet Laurent’s lips once more. It was wet and hot and filthy, the way Laurent pulled him in for more, deepening the kiss until Damen didn’t know where Laurent ended and he began. A groan resonated in the back of Damen’s throat as Laurent sucked on his tongue, drawing the delicate flesh out of Damen’s mouth and in between his teeth to lightly bite.

In retaliation, Damen reached down to wrap his hand back around Laurent’s cock, pumped once, twice, and forced Laurent to release him. His blonde hair mussed up against the pillow as he threw his head back, helpless to thrust up into Damen’s fist. It was sweet torture, but torture nonetheless. This was not what he wanted, but merely a preface of what was yet to come.

“I’d much rather you fucked me tonight instead of tomorrow, Damianos,” Laurent said, his face not nearly as composed as his voice. It was always one or the other with him; a stoic disposition and the inability to control his words or vice versa. 

Damen withdrew his hand and tore a high whine from Laurent. The sound prompted mercy, and Damen leaned in for one more quick kiss before both of his hands slid beneath Laurent to reposition him on his stomach. This way, the corset’s many laces were readily accessible. Damen knew how desperate he’d been to get out of the damn thing after being trapped in it for hours on end; he could only imagine Laurent was just as eager.

Sensing what Damen was doing, Laurent assisted him and rolled over willingly. The moment Damen let go, however, Laurent drew his knees up beneath himself, offering Damen a tantalizing view of his ass. It was sinful how easily he could render Damen powerless with such a pose. Both of them knew it was this pretense of submission, how Laurent was never actually subservient to another, yet was still willing to try and replicate proper obeisance as a pet or a slave would to their owner, that riled Damen up. It was that mixed with the tightness of the corset, with its boning still digging into Laurent’s already trim waist, accentuating his pert backside even more, which did Damen in. The globes of Laurent’s ass took on a more decidedly feminine appearance like this, all plumped and presented grandly due to the restriction of the corset’s taut lacing.

Damen caught himself biting his lip to stifle a groan. He wanted to taste, to touch, to devour. Instead, he only allowed his hand to trace appreciatively up the outside of Laurent’s thigh to his hip and to his back. His fingernails dipped and rose in the crisscrossed network of laces that held the corset closed.

Objectively, Damen knew he needed to undo them if they ever wanted to move beyond this moment, but still, he caught himself thinking it something of a shame. When would be the next time Laurent was willing to humor him like this? When would he be granted the gift of such a beautiful sight?

His free hand came up to join the first, and together they began to pick at the first of many knots Laurent had imposed on himself. He had just barely gotten the first undone when Laurent’s pale hand reached around to still him.

Damen stopped and looked up.

“Leave it,” Laurent commanded, one blue eye regarding Damen over the slope of his naked shoulder. 

Damen swallowed. He needed a moment to think.

“What—”

“Your expression is too honest, Damen,” his lover said, like that alone explained everything. When Damen’s hands had still not retreated, Laurent spoke again. “It’s obvious from the way you stare. You look at me differently in this.”

“I—” Damen didn’t know how to refute that. Laurent, as a man, was always lovely. Since he was a teen, Damen had made it clear he’d held preferences for both men and women, though women had often frequented his bedchambers more than the former. Laurent in women’s clothes, though… Well, that made him even lovelier. Damen almost felt ashamed to admit that he preferred seeing his husband trussed up like this. It echoed back to a life he no longer lived but had still enjoyed nonetheless. It was harmless pretend, he and his pretty lover who could play at being both a man and a woman while still feeding all of Damen’s darkest desires.

His lack of a response only seemed to amuse Laurent more. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I _like_ the way you look at me, especially in this,” Laurent simpered, and to prove his point, he leaned back on his heels to better rut up against Damen’s unclothed cock. They slotted together beautifully, familiarly, but nothing about this encounter felt remotely like the others.

“Temptress,” Damen groaned, and Laurent didn’t bother to correct him on the gender used. It seemed he was still content to play the role of the lovely Lady Lauren he’d assumed earlier that evening. “Do we have oil?” Damen’s hand came up to rest on either side of Laurent, bracketing his hips and stilling his movements.

“The drawer,” Laurent mentioned off-hand, gesturing to the bedside table closest to them. “I made sure certain _provisions_ were supplied before checking into this room.”

Damen leaned over and pulled the top drawer out. As promised, eight skinny vials, each full enough for one lengthy encounter, awaited him. Their contents were clear and viscous, and Damen palmed one before sliding the drawer shut. He used his thumb to uncork it, smiling at the satisfying little pop that promised pleasure yet to come. Laurent shivered at the soft sound of the liquid as it drizzled out of the vial and into Damen’s waiting palm. He made sure to use his dominant hand when preparing Laurent; it would be no fun otherwise.

As if he’d been told, Laurent repositioned himself on his knees and elbows to better spread his legs wide. The sight elicited another groan from Damen, who took in all that Laurent was offering up. He maneuvered himself to match his partner and brought his oiled hand up above the split in Laurent’s cheeks. Drops of the lubricant dripped off his fingers and splattered soundlessly on the flesh below. Each one that touched Laurent’s sensitive skin earned Damen a little intake of breath. The anticipation was palpable, and with great restraint, Damen pressed one finger firmly up against where he was yearning to be.

Laurent gasped at the first press, both of them moaning as his body opened and sucked in Damen’s thick finger. He was always tight, but countless hours of lovemaking had made him more receptive to Damen’s advances. He took less time to prepare now than he had in the past, but this was still an act of reverence that Damen loved to perform for his lover. He leaned down to lay an openmouthed kiss against one of Laurent’s ass cheeks as he slowly and methodically pumped in and out, deep enough to the second knuckle before pulling back to slide in a second finger.

It only took a few minutes more before the breathless quality of Laurent calling Damen’s name had him at his wits end. Laurent only got like that when he was ready for more and _now_. Damen was happy to be the one to provide.

Pulling his fingers out, much to Laurent’s dismay, Damen tipped the vial to pour any remaining oil into his hand and reached down to slick up his own length. He did this slowly, carefully, not wanting to spill too soon.

“Damianos,” Laurent groaned, dropping his head down onto the bed in something like defeat.

“Laurent,” Damen mirrored and lined himself up properly.

“No more games,” Laurent pleaded, writhing on the bed beneath Damen. As if in agreement, Damen took that opportunity to slide in, in one quick, hot push. It set both of them aflame instantly; this had always been Damen’s favorite part, and he meant to savor it.

He brought both of his hands up to rest on the heavy frilled edges of Laurent’s corset to hold him steady and prevent him from bucking back onto Damen too soon. Laurent was often impatient for this next part, and while he may whine and complain that he didn’t need an adjustment period, it made the fucking even better when he was wide pliant and open for Damen when they took the time.

After a moment of harsh breaths and soft kisses pressed to the back of Laurent’s neck, Damen started up an easy rhythm. This pace was something he and Laurent were familiar with, something Laurent’s body responded to well.

Slow lovemaking was not a thing Damen had ever specially reserved for anyone before Laurent, but he cared deeply for his husband and his pleasure; it had never been a lie when he’d admitted to being Laurent’s slave, in the past or now. And though things about tonight’s encounter felt different in a lot of ways, Damen never intended to be presumptuous for what it was that Laurent wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long before Laurent finally told him.

“Damian— Damen,” Laurent gasped in between two particularly deep thrusts. “Stop. Stop.”

Damen did.

“Not like this,” Laurent rasped against the pillow. His hair was a tangled mess spilling over one shoulder, and Damen could see he was quaking with the effort to exert control in this condition. “This is... not what you want.”

“And what do _you_ want?” Damen asked him, leaning forward to press another kiss atop a protruding vertebrae at the base of Laurent’s neck.

“I— I don’t want it gentle.”

Damen smirked before settling back on his heels.

“I want you to show me how this makes you feel. I want—” Laurent turned to a blue eye to Damen carefully. “I want everything.”

 _Your everything_ , he meant, and that was encouragement enough for Damen. He allowed one of his hands to slide up the back of Laurent’s thick corset to grip roughly at any loose lacing. Rarely did Laurent ever prompt for Damen to give himself over to his passions, and he planned on taking full advantage of that now. Making sure to wind any extra length of the laces around his fist for tighter control, Damen jerked him back and resumed fucking into Laurent with renewed fervor.

His first thrust drew little more than a faint gasp from Laurent. The second pulled a choked sob from him. Every other one after that only caused Laurent's voice to increase in volume, and after a few minutes of the demanding pace Damen had set for the two of them, he had Laurent crying on his cock, wailing into the pillows for some kind of release he couldn’t seem to achieve on his own.

The sounds he was making were exquisite though not wholly appropriate for their current location. And while Damen would normally be flattered to hear any and all noises Laurent was willing to give up to him, the last thing they needed right now was some caretaker from the inn barging into their room thinking someone was being murdered in the middle of the night. Damen brought his free hand down over Laurent’s open mouth, effectively halving his cries.

That worked, for a time, but eventually Laurent managed to wrestle his face away from Damen’s palm, his whole upper body collapsing bonelessly onto the bed after one particularly hard thrust.

It was this surrender, him crumbling under the pleasure, that spurred Damen forward, seeking more, giving more. He released the corset and pressed himself flush to Laurent’s back, tight enough that nothing might separate them or get in between them again. His pace slowed just the slightest, each movement of his hips still profound enough to be felt, but not enough to tear an audible reaction out of Laurent.

“Sweetheart,” Damen panted against Laurent’s ear, “are you all right?”

His first answer was a whimper followed by a wiggle of Laurent’s hips pressing back into him.

“Do-don’t stop,” his lover struggled to get out in between breaths. “Don’t you dare… stop!”

Leaving one more open-mouthed kiss against the side of Laurent’s neck, Damen used his tongue to trace a wet line up onto Laurent’s back. He sucked one final mark, red and wet and sure to bruise, on the raised curve of Laurent’s scapula before jerking back and slamming into him again.

This time it was much harder. This time Damen knew Laurent was going to feel it for days, but they both wanted it, and that made his request all the sweeter.

He threw his head back and closed his eyes at the onslaught of sensations rippling all the way from his top of his head to the tips of his toes. Release was curling tight and hot in his gut, each thrust another inch closer and threatening oblivion. Damen fought against it and opened his eyes, looked down at the place where they were joined together. Laurent’s taut body refused to let him go, his own hips pushing back into every single one of Damen’s movements, wordlessly begging for more, deeper, don’t stop.

Damen groaned at the sight, his mind barely functioning well enough to consider Laurent’s release. Would this be enough for him to finish untouched? He wasn’t sure, but Damen would be damned if he wasn’t willing to try. Tugging the lacing of the corset tight enough to cut off the circulation in his hand, he drove in harder.

Laurent let out another loud scream as Damen’s thick length brushed roughly against that spot inside, the one that heated him to melting. He made sure to do it again and again, until all Laurent could do was howl in the mindless throes of pleasure.

Somewhere along the way, Damen’s fingers found themselves back in the slippery cavity of Laurent’s open mouth. Slick spit fell into his waiting hand, and Laurent’s clever tongue weaved helplessly in and around the webbing of Damen’s fingers, deliriously searching for some sort of sense, a touch, a taste, anything that might help ground him before he lost all of his composure.

“Laurent, my love,” Damen grunted, trying to keep himself in control and failing. His hand, drenched and sloppy, clamped tightly over Laurent’s mouth just in time to stifle his final scream as he came with Damen still buried deep inside of him. It was enough; it’d been enough, and Damen felt himself on the precipice. He barely had enough sense to readjust his grip and pull out.

He would finish soon. He could feel it.

“Damen…” Laurent gurgled from where Damen’s palm was pressed to his face. “Not like that.”

 _Inside_ , the word dangled unspoken between them. Damen felt his heart stutter in his chest.

For Laurent to be so overstimulated and yet still so cognizant of Damen’s desires… now he wanted to be the one to cry. He gripped himself, cock heavy in his hand, and pushed back in. It felt just as good as the first time. He prayed it would never stop feeling like this, not after years, not ever.

“ _Yes,_ ” he barely heard Laurent command him in Akielon, the language Damen’s mind always reverted to when he allowed himself to get lost in the end.

Once more, twice, and finally Damen gave up on any semblance of his previous rhythm. He felt himself falling and welcomed it. The pull of gravity in this moment was akin to diving from the high cliffs of Ios; the rush of adrenaline he felt coursing through him was matched only by the victory of a battle hard fought.

Laurent had melted and now, so too, would Damen. For one scorching, glorious second they were one.

It took everything in Damen not to drop his full weight on his lover. Normally he had more control over his body, more sense of awareness of himself. But Laurent, like a skilled thief, robbed him of it completely, made him as poor as a beggar in terms of restraint. When he toppled forward, Damen was barely able to catch himself on shaking hands, all the muscles in him still quivering from the aftershocks of his release.

He had to take several deep breaths to calm himself enough before pulling out, a gush of cum seeping from Laurent’s hole and onto the mattress below. A thrill ran through Damen, and he groaned at the sight. He needed to tell himself to take it easy; they had the whole night.

Another minute, and Damen could finally disentangle himself from Laurent. He got off the bed, legs unsteady under him, like he’d been the one fucked into the mattress, and wandered to the basin of water they’d had prepared for them earlier in the evening. By now it would be lukewarm at best, but anything would suffice if it helped to clean the both of them up.

Damen grabbed a nearby rag and dipped it below the surface of the water, bringing it up and wringing it out to ensure nothing dripped on the floor before making his way back to Laurent.

“Mmm, you spoil me,” Laurent hummed at his approach. Somewhere between Damen leaving and returning, Laurent had rolled over onto his back. The proof of his pleasure was pearly white and glistening over the exposed portion of his chest. It was thick and plentiful where visible, and Damen had half a mind to skip the rag and lap it up himself. Without a reason not to, he did. The action was not something he’d ever wanted to do for a partner before Laurent, but then again, there were few things left that he wasn’t willing to do for his fellow king.

“Always,” Damen replied, leaning away and licking any trace of what he’d just done from his lips. Laurent’s seed was musky and masculine in a way that his current appearance beguiled, long hair and shapely waist. Were it not for the obvious sight of his spent cock laying dormant between his legs, Damen might have mistaken him a waifish woman.

And that was when he remembered why Laurent looked so slender. The corset. Damen’s eyes fell on it, and he noticed for the first time the shallowness of Laurent’s breathing. It was probably time to remove that.

He took another moment to wipe himself off, his thighs and hands, before tossing the cloth to the floor.

“Come here,” he said, motioning for Laurent to come closer. His husband did so without argument. He sat upright and allowed Damen to turn him around, baring his back and the complicated lacing of the corset which had gotten messy from the oil on Damen’s hand. As with all Veretian clothing, even without that hindrance, releasing Laurent would require some finesse. Luckily, Damen had a few years of practice with tricky laces under his belt, and he made sure to pick out all of the knots first before beginning the process of loosening the laces in their eyelets.

Once the corset’s stiff material was loose enough to slip low on Laurent’s hips, Damen gripped the top of the material and slid it up over Laurent’s head. His long golden hair was the last thing to fall out of the hollow of the corset, and then Damen discarded that, too, on the floor.

Without anything left to obscure Laurent’s body from view, it became readily apparent that the corset had been laced too tight. Deep vertical stripes, angry and red, were lined around Laurent’s rib cage down into the dip of his waist.

Damen felt his own chest tighten. Perhaps he shouldn’t have let Laurent spoil him as much as he had.

“I can hear you thinking,” Laurent said. He brought one of his hands up to cup the underside of Damen’s jaw. His fingertips were cool and gentle, a beautiful parody of the relentless fucking they’d just finished minutes before. “I don’t regret this, nor should you. It is what I asked for, and I would ask you to do it again in a heartbeat.”

At those words, Damen dropped himself to his knees beside the bed.

“But it looks painful,” he tried to argue.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Laurent reassured him, moving his fingers up and through Damen’s hair. “You know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Both of Damen’s large hands came up to trace tenderly along the length of each red mark on Laurent’s skin. Each touch was a silent apology, an acknowledgement from Damen that he would keep the promise he’d made so many years before. His head dipped forward and soon kisses were following the paths of his fingertips.

“If you are so insistent,” Laurent finally said to him after a time, “there are other ways you can make it up to me.”

“Anything,” Damen breathed against Laurent’s stomach, body still bent before him in submission.

“Damianos.”

He looked up. Laurent was smiling down at him, his eyes dark and soft in that way that was only ever present when it was the two of them alone. “Come,” Laurent beckoned, sliding away and out of Damen’s reach. His movements were playful, promised mischief. Another game perhaps since Laurent seemed hellbent on not allowing Damen’s worries to ruin the good mood they’d had going before the removal of the corset and the marks it had left behind.

Swallowing, Damen rose to his full height.

He would do anything to earn this, to always have Laurent’s attention, his love and affection, his forgiveness. Damen wanted to have his everything. It would take a lifetime to earn, but he was willing to do anything for more moments like this.

“Damen, come to bed.”

Without another word, he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was some _filth_. You're welcome. I'd also like to give a special thanks to my friend and beta, [Vixen13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/) for always being there and encouraging me ~~to do bad things~~. Until we meet again...


End file.
